Balkan-Style Spanische Windtorte (Španski Vjetar, Majdina Torta) - Spanish Wind Cake

Spanish Wind Cake (Spanische Windtorte, Španski Vjetar) is a quintessential European torte. Made with crunchy yet soft meringue layers, it's filled with velvety, walnut infused cream. Austrian by birth and beloved across the Balkans, it's the one cake worth mastering. Shall we?

Jump to:

• Background
• Why You'll Love Spanish Wind
• Ingredients
• Instructions
• Expert Tips
• Variations
• Handling
• More Cakes
• Thoughts?
• Balkan-Style Spanish Wind Cake (Španski Vjetar, Spanische Windtorte)
• More Recipe 💙
• Personal Story

Background

Despite its name, the Spanish Wind cake isn't Spanish. Instead, it originated in Vienna during the Habsburg dynasty, which at some point ruled both Spain and Austria.

During the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the cake (alongside many pastries such as štrudla, kuglof, kremšnita, etc.), arrived to the Balkans.

Today, španski vjetar holds an esteemed place among the local desserts. It's especially popular in Bosnia and Herzegovina, Croatia and Serbia.

The original Spanische Windtorte was complex, consisting of piped meringue shells filled with cream and fruit. This luxurious, albeit fragile, architectural dessert had to be consumed immediately.

Today's Spanish Wind, adapted to the Balkan kitchen, is simpler but equally delectable. Over time, it even inspired more versions like the ledeni vjetar (Icy Wind), and japanski vjetar (Japanese Wind).

The Balkan version keeps the meringue and rich cream, but replaces intricate shells for sheet-pan layers. The addition of walnuts is a nod to the Balkans' favorite edible seed.

While not the easiest of cakes (tortes) to tackle, Spanish Wind is well worth the effort. We’ve simplified the instructions so nothing feels overwhelming.

Why You'll Love Spanish Wind

• Structural perfection. Crisp outside, soft inside, with creamy layers that melt... This cake is a textural poetry.
• Timeless elegance. Humble ingredients become something bigger than themselves in this European torte.
• Pirouette away, Pavlova! With layers of rich yolk-based cream and walnuts, Spanische Windtorte takes the meringue cake concept several steps further!
• Conversation cake! A real conversation starter, this cake has everyone asking, “How in the world did you make this?!”
• Rewards patience! Spanish Wind tastes even better overnight as the meringue and cream come together beautifully (not that you need to improve on perfection!).

Ingredients

To simplify, we've divided the ingredients into two groups: one for the cake and another for the filling and frosting.

Cake

• Egg whites. Keep the yolks for the filling.
• Salt.Table salt is fine.
• Sugar. Granulated white sugar.
• Vinegar. White vinegar is best.

Frosting and Filling

• Whipping cream powder.
• Milk. Regular milk. Divided.
• Flour. All purpose.
• Egg yolks.
• Sugar. White granulated.
• Butter.
• Walnuts. Substitute with hazelnuts.

Instructions

Spanish wind torte (španski vjetar) has quite a few steps, especially if you don't bake cakes often. We're confident you will be successful, however we suggest:

-reading the recipe card instructions carefully,
-looking at the photos and shortened instructions below, and
-watching the video a couple of times.

Expert tips are also helpful. Let's go!

Cake

Step 1. Beat egg whites with salt until frothy. Add sugar, vinegar, and beat to stiff peaks (mixture shouldn’t move when bowl is flipped).

Step 2. Line a pan with parchment. Spread batter into two rectangles, leaving space between.
Step 3. Bake (dry). Cool completely and gently peel off parchment.

Frosting & Filling

Step 1. Mix flour with a little milk until smooth, then add remaining milk. Set aside.
Step 2. Whip milk (different milk) and whipping cream powder to soft peaks. Chill.

Step 3. In a bain-marie, beat yolks with sugar with a hand mixer until pale.

Step 4. Add milk–flour mixture to yolks and cook, stirring, until pudding-thick.

Step 5. Mix in butter, cool again. Fold in whipped cream.
Step 6. Divide mixture in half. Mix walnuts into second half and chill.

Assemble

Step 1. Place first cake layer (meringue) on platter. Spread the filling evenly. Top with second layer. Cover cake with frosting (top and sides).
Step 2. Sprinkle with ground walnuts.
Step 3. Chill for at least 4 hours, or overnight, before serving.

Expert Tips

Here are a couple of tips that'll help!

Patience! Enthusiasm is great. Experience is better. Meringue isn't easy to achieve. You may make it perfectly several times, and then fail the following time. Patience will get you through the failure.

Breakage! Meringue is oh-so delicate! If the cake cracks, gently patch it up with cream. (It’ll still taste great!) If it breaks completely, eat the crumbs, take a breath, and make the meringue again.

Weather! Spanish Wind is a cooler weather cake. If it's hot or humid don't bother making it. It doesn't matter that it's cool inside. Simply wait for a cooler day.

Timing! Like Like baklava, meringue is essentially dried. This means low temperatures. This means a long time.  Some famous chefs are known to dry meringue overnight at 140°F (60°C). We think that's a bit much. One to two hours at 265-300°F (130-150°C) will do just fine.

Oven! Listen to your oven! Maybe you can get away with 300°F (150°C), or you have to go down to 265°F (130°C), or lower for a longer period. Maybe you'll have to cover meringue with parchment paper to prevent burning, maybe not. Be mindful of your equipment, and it'll work out.

Variations

There are two main variations of the Spanish Wind.

1. Icy Wind (Ledeni vjetar) - a Spanish Wind version with fruit like kiwi and strawberries.
2. Japanese Wind (Japanski vjetar) - a version of Spanish Wind with hazelnut, or a hazelnut and walnut mix.

Handling

Rest the cake in the fridge for at least 4 hours, but preferably overnight. This gives the layers time to set and meld together.

Serve chilled. Use a long, sharp, cold knife, and wipe it between cuts.

Store leftovers (if any!) in the fridge for up to 2-3 days. (Keep them in a container with a lid.)

Avoid freezing, as it's too delicate.

More Cakes

Here are some more cakes our readers truly love! Starting with the classic and traditional Mama's Walnut and Chocolate Cake to Berries, you can't go wrong!

Thoughts?

If you make today's Spanish Wind Torte (Spanische Windtorte, Španski vjetar) and like it, please consider leaving a ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (5-star) rating. This will help others find the recipe more easily!

You can also leave a comment, I read EVERY one! Finally, if IG is more your thing, consider tagging us @balkanlunchbox.

Prijatno, Dobar Tek, and Bon Appetit!

(Dedicated to Majda Hašimbegović)

More Recipe 💙

Personal Story

This is a personal story behind this cake. It's about Majda Hašimbegović, the woman who shared with us her Spanish Wind cake recipe.

Majda's Cake

I never met Majda in person. I heard about her from my sister.

Aleksandra is in the event planning, she knows every cake maker in town.

Of those, Majda’s cakes were the best. When offered a choice, people chose Majda’s. 

I too, was a lucky recipient of Majda’s delicacies. I really liked this one pudding cake of hers. A really simple one. The kind you whip up with cookie crumbs like Petit Beurre, and chocolate pudding. It had a soft consistency.  It was a cake you eat while reading a good book.

(Another great thing about Majda was that she shared her recipes freely. I asked Aleksandra to ask for the recipe several years ago. Majda emailed me right away. But I never got around to making it at that time.)

However, the best cake Majda made is called the Spanish Wind (Španski vjetar). Everyone loves this cake.

A few years ago Majda got cancer. A fast one. 

She stopped making cakes. She stopped taking calls. She disappeared in a manner of many cancered. Quickly. Violently.

I remember her husband’s FB post that day, a link to a song by a local band named aptly “I don’t feel like parting from you.” I understood him. Few months before this I experienced the same.

Like those that go, she left behind a lot. Young son. Loving husband. Family and friends. They sit around their dinner table, and she’s there. She never left. In thoughts. In photos. In stories. In memories.

What they don’t expect is that she’s walked through many of our conversations too. For a long while, each time one of us ate a good dessert, the discussion easily turned to Majda.

And each time it was a short conversation. “No one makes cakes the way Majda made cakes,” was how it started and ended.

Not that we didn’t try to find the recipe for her cake. It’s a well-known regional cake. Something about hers though.

It was like a matured woman who knows her worth. She needs no extra trinkets. Rich, but you wouldn’t know it unless you sink your teeth in. She’s sensual and soft. But to grasp that you have to feel her smoothness in your mouth. She’s a minimalist. But her entire substance is pure gold.

Even as the years put a clear division between Majda and us, our neurons were forever stamped by a memory of her hands' work. 

A few months ago, Aleksandra, mom and I were again reminiscing about cakes. Inevitably Majda came up. There would never be another cake like hers. There would never be another Majda.

I suddenly remember the email she sent me years ago, the one with the recipe for the pudding cake. It was a consolation prize, I knew, but comforting that at least we could make something of hers.

I pulled it up and started to read. The more I read it out loud, the more excited Aleksandra and mom got.  I didn’t have as much experience in cakes. But even I noticed there was no mention of Petit Beurre nor the pudding.

Majda confused the recipes and sent me the wrong one. Her confusion left behind a fortune. In my inbox was the recipe for the cake! Španski vjetar, to be exact!

The email was a glimpse into her prowess. It was written to someone who - she supposed - had made a few cakes in their life. Written the way a doctor scribbles a prescription having full confidence that the pharmacist would decipher it and make the right concoction.  

Even in the email, it was evident it was a cake she’d done thousands of times before.

She couldn’t have known that at the time she sent the email I had very little experience in cookery. Even less in baking. She couldn’t have known that the email would fall down under the weight of other, "more pressing," emails of the time.

She wouldn't have known back when she sent it, that several years later, several years after her, one evening we'd cry collectively after we made it and it was her meringue cake. 

Several years ago Majda closed that email with, “goodbye from the cold Sarajevo.”

Hello from a warm September Sarajevo evening Majda. And thank you very much darling!